


we're still home

by tangerineisms (netflixing)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Closure, F/M, Grief/Mourning, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I missed writing them, Inspired by a YouTube video, Oneshot, Sad, Stydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 08:56:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12165663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/netflixing/pseuds/tangerineisms
Summary: What's left of someone after they die? What do they stay alive within? How do those left behind move on? Does one ever really move on?orlydia is left to pick up the pieces of what was left behind by stiles





	we're still home

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize in advance for this, i'll post the youtube link for the inspo here but warning: it's really sad n i cried 
> 
> title is taken from spring awakening bc im a nerd
> 
> also i needed to write stydia again bc the show isn't giving me anything rn so what the heck right lets jst write something heart wrenching n sad

She had been putting it off for a long time, focusing on more important things, like filling the endless cardboard boxes up and stuffing them into the crawl space under the stairs. The mere act of packing it up felt odd, it all felt wrong, like this was all some twisted fever dream she'd wake up from. She paced back and forth, fingering the diamonds around the band that rested on her fourth finger. She sighed slowly, pulling her hair up into a bun and tucking the fly pieces behind her ear, walking out to the last box. The house seemed to creak and groan in answer to her, her bare feet barely touching the hardwood hallway. She cracked open the cardboard with the square object glimmering in response tauntingly. She cradled it in her left hand, tapping it alive with her fingers.

 

The lock-screen was them, at one of the many professional events they got dressed up for. It was unbelievably candid, taken by a friend. She was fixing his tie, stretching up even in wedges to reach him, his face the picture of absolute adoration. The bubble popped up on the screen with a small ding, causing her to tense immediately.

 

**6 - new voicemails, listen now?**

 

She was always terrible at responding to her voicemails, letting them pile up until the last possible minute when she had to make storage space for pictures and music. She was thankful as ever now to her past self, considering all circumstances. She shoved the box to the side, taking the phone and shutting herself into her room. Unlocking the phone with a few simple swipes, she entered her voicemail password, putting it on speaker and setting it on the bedside table.

 

**Welcome back! You have six new voicemails, to listen, please press seven!**

 

**First Message - sent Thursday, July 5 at 12:20 am**

 

_"Hey Lydia, I uh, I don't really know how to put this but I miss you even though it's only been a week. I keep thinking about that night when you came to visit the second day and we- ..and then we went to that really nice brunch place?... with the champagne flutes? In my wildest dreams, I never thought I'd be brunching with Lydia Martin.. soon to be Martin-Stilinski…God I’ll never get tired of saying or hearing that…ever in my whole life. id I use that in the correct tense? Is brunch a verb or the adverb?,... See, this is why I need you here- you'd be correcting my reports left and right...Anyways, it's really late and ...can't sleep but you're probably sleeping and I'm going off again, aren't I?_

 

The message cuts off abruptly with a dial tone and she unravels her legs from their crossed position. She’d forgotten those little quirks about his voice already, she didn’t think it was possible but hearing it clear as day made her lose her breath and her heart all at once. The way his voice rasped between the distinct hours of 12-5am, the way he’d breathily chuckle when he talked about their future, about her bullheadedness about hyphenating her name because “LMS makes a better monogram for my stationary” The recording of the operator interrupted her thoughts interrogating if she wanted to continue with the messages.

She pressed the required key and settled back against the pillow, laying her hands across her middle to steady her breathing. The next voicemail started up with an audible crackle.

 

**Second Message – sent August 20 at 7:55am**

_“Hey Lyds, it’s me. Well, it’s Stiles, although you probably have caller ID because who in all honestly doesn’t have caller ID, it’s 2017 after all. You probably won’t get this until later but I wanted to call because I forgot to tell you this after you left this morning to your meeting for your dissertation but you looked amazing today. Like holy shit I’m marrying a goddess. Like are you sure you’re not part some type of siren? I mean it, I really do. And I know you probably think I’m bias because I wake up and go to sleep with you every night but it’s 100% true, scout’s honor. Don’t worry about what those old men think of it, they’re all going to die off and cough up lungs and who’s going to be running the show next? It’ll be you. I..(-yes one cold brew with a straw, I didn’t get a straw last time…)…I’m really proud of you Lydia, you’ve worked your entire three years of a Masters degree for this, I’m right behind you in everything and I always will be, like if you wanted me to dress up in pom poms and hairclips to cheer you on I probably would, but I’m not sure what the hairclips would even cling to…Do you want me to pick up takeout on my way back to celebrate? Maybe it’s a little too early for that yet…But we’re still celebrating tonight, don’t even think about being modest. I love you, see you at home.”_

 

She remembers the day she crossed the stage, (in Louis Vuitton no less) to receive her Masters of Science, shaking hands with the Deans and President of the University. He had arrived two hours too early, just to ‘be sure’ he had enough time to park, buy flowers, and meet his parents to get seated in the front row beside her mother. She found it annoyingly endearing how he doted over her all day, bragging that “my fianceé found a new chemical that creates mutations what does your fianceé do?. But in true fashion when her name was called, he shot out of his seat, grinning and waving a large gold piece of poster paper that read “THAT’S MY (SOON TO BE) WIFE” and she swore in that moment she was glowing the brightest shade.

She glances up at the framed copy of the diploma above her vanity, next to a collage of pictures from that month.

 

The next message filters through and plays automatically.

 

**Third Message – sent September 1 2:50pm**

 

_“I just got fitted for my tuxedo today Lydia, and you know what that means? We’re only three months away. Three months, wow. Scott’s here too..Scott say hi to Lydia …..Did you end up ordering those weird candlestick things off Amazon? Do we really need them? I mean, don’t candles just cause fire issues? I think we need to do one of those midnight pizza buffets because we do want our wedding to be the one people remember the most, we need to top everyone in the most competitive way possible…Not that I’m saying our love is a competition, because it totally isn’t and I love you so much, but I may or may not have ordered superhero socks for all the groomsmen, and I know, I know it doesn’t go with the theme, but please don’t be mad. We still need to talk about who’s going to be at the tables, but you probably have a formula for that already. (What?) I have to go, but I love you!”_

 

She sniffs and shakes her head, smiling at the memory. He’d come home with armfuls of socks, each one bearing a different Marvel or DC superhero logo. With as much precision as a neuroscientist, he laid out each pair in the living room, according to the groomsmen and their personalities, saving the Batman one for himself of course, and Superman went to Scott. She never ended up buying the candelabras, but it still, to this day sat in her Amazon cart along with other things that she doesn’t need.

 

**Fourth Message – September 10 12:15pm**

_“Hey, you’ll never guess where I am right now…I’m at our old elementary school, how crazy is that? Yeah, the preschoolers are having some type of career day and my boss promised us volunteer agents it’ll be counted as overtime so…God they’re all so cute Lydia, they literally are so tiny they’re like the lollipop guild from the Wizard of Oz. You should really see them…one of them wanted to touch everything on my vest, and see what every single thing was. Do you remember when we met here? I mean, it wasn’t preschool but the third grade classroom upstairs? I remember it had this big fake tree made out of paper mache in the corner and you would always read in there. I was so scared to talk to you. Even in high school. I still can’t fully wrap my head around this concept that I’m getting married to my first crush, does that sound dorky? Call the engagement off now if it is…kidding, I’m kidding, you're going to have to put up with me until I’m withered and grey..Oh, I think they’re coming back from recess now, I’ll text you after..”_

 

She would give up the shoes and the coats and the rings, even the house, to be able to hear him quote Star Wars or Guardians of the Galaxy one more time, even if it was in his sleep. They never talked about kids or starting a family in general, maybe once or twice over dishes, but the conversations were cut short by Lydia, her worries and “what ifs” too large for them to discuss. The questions were there, hanging aimlessly in the air but they never got addressed and she can’t take back what she never said. But now, listening to the tone of his voice and the certain senses when he talked about the kids, she knew his answer even if they never brought it up.

 

**Fifth Message – September 18 2:01am**

_Ms. Martin. It’s Special Agent Sehan, I’m sorry if I woke you but this message is extremely urgent there’s…. your…. there’s been… I’m going to call again in a few short minutes but if you receive this first, please call this line back as soon as possible. Thank you.”_

 

Her heart quickens at the words, sitting up immediately. She’d answered Sehan’s second phone call, but never knew he left a message until now. She reaches over and deletes message five, hoping to avoid a potential panic attack in the near future. She can feel tears pooling in her eyes and she swats at them, she needed this, she needed to hear his voice, how he spoke her name, the way his voice would go lower on some syllables and how he spoke when he needed her when it was just him, in his office calling her during a particularly difficult case closing.

**Sixth Message – Sent Today at 2:15 pm**

_“Hello, Ms. Lydia Martin? It’s Meghan at Carolina Bridal.…it’s been a few days since your last fitting, the dress’s deposit went through last week and it’s been steamed and restrung. It’s a beautiful dress and the only one we’ve sold from that collection, it really is one of a kind..Please call us back at your earliest convenience, we can’t wait to help make your big day extra special.”_

 

**End of Messages…..To Delete press seven……Are you still there?**

**_________________________________________________________________________**

 

**Outgoing call: { husband material – S.S. }**

********

********

 

_**_This line has been disconnected and is no longer in service, to dial with a different area code, please hang up and try your call again._** _

__

__

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CKBHetW65KQ
> 
> that's the youtube link to what inspired this oneshot!


End file.
